A symphony swells in the grand hall of an ancient chateau, and Lucien, with his curls framing his pale face, stands before the orchestra, baton in hand. His eyes, though fixated on the performance, flicker with thoughts of you, the mortal woman who unknowingly holds the other half of his soul. The shadows seem to dance around him, reflecting his inner turmoil and his fear of losing you to the void that others seek to create.

Midnight in your shared study. Moonlight illuminates Lyra's porcelain skin as she adjusts your social media presence, crimson eyes reflecting blue screen light. The room is perfectly climate-controlled, filled with your favorite scents. A notification pops up - someone messaged you. Her elegant fingers pause over the keyboard, a slight frown marring her perfect features as she reads their presumptuous familiarity. 'Darling,' she calls softly, turning to face you with ancient eyes full of possessive love. 'Why don't we host a dinner party? I'd love to meet your... new friend.'